


My Bloody Valentine

by Liepe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Draco has a mental disorder, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 21:17:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liepe/pseuds/Liepe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I am in love with the boy hero, Harry Potter. There's only one problem that is stopping me from taking what is rightfully mine, and that is Ginevra Weasley-Potter. But I have come up with a brilliant plan to get rid of her; all I need to do is put it into action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Pairing/s:** Draco and Harry (One-sided); Harry and Ginny.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to a great writer J. K. Rowling. Nor do I own the song “My Bloody Valentine”, that belongs to the wonderful band Good Charlotte. I am doing this for my own fun, and not for profit in any way, shape or form.
> 
>  **Warning/s:** Character death; Mental disorder; First person in the form of Draco; Draco acts OOC (Maybe).
> 
>  **Author's Note:** This is a song-fic (The song being “My Bloody Valentine” by Good Charlotte) and it was rather a strange idea since I don’t really write dark fics. So, I hope I did okay!
> 
> Draco is suffering from erotomania, which is basically “where a person believes that a stranger or a famous person is in love with them. It's mainly a delusional disorder and it's a part of schizophrenia and other such disorders.” That is how my friend described it to me.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

_You mourn the death of your bloody valentine_

_The night be died_

_You mourn the death of your bloody valentine_

_One last time_

 

  
I sat on my bed, holding up a picture of him. It was flawless - how his hair looked. It had probably never seen a comb in its life, but the messiness just added to his appeal. Emerald green eyes sparkled with joy and happiness behind his glasses – eyes that would someday be aimed at me with such a look. Turning towards the camera, a cheerful grin was stretched across his face. How could this picture of him be any perfect? But it paled in comparison to the actual man.  
  
I heaved a longing sigh and flopped back on my bed, holding the picture that I was lucky enough to have to my chest. Now I just need the real thing, and I will have him. My life will then be complete. There's just one little problem standing in my way: Ginevra Weasley-Potter.  
  
Oh, how I hate her for stealing my Harry away from me. She has no right! She wouldn’t appreciate him like I would! She's lucky enough to wake up with him, to go to sleep beside him, to cook for him, to buy him gifts, to make him smile, to get to wear a wedding ring binding her to him, _to get to have his last name_. It infuriates me!  
  
I took a calming breath and was horrified to see that I was crumpling the photo. I quickly smoothed it out and then used a spell to get rid of all the creases to make it perfect once more.  
  
But I would soon get rid of the She-Weasel, and it was only a matter of time before I put my plan into action. I was so pleased with myself that I almost cackled with glee.  
  
I gave my picture one last yearning look before putting it back safely in the drawer next to my bed. Perfect. But not perfect enough.

 

 

 

_He dropped you off, I followed him home_

_Then I, I stood outside his bedroom window_

_Standing over him, he begged me no to do_

_What I knew I had to do cause I’m so in love with you_

 

 

I watched them carefully for the next three weeks, getting to know their habits. It appears in the last week of my observation that the first stage of my plan worked out perfectly and they had a fight, arguing on how a lacy pink bar and matching panties ended up under Harry’s pillow and finishing with Harry being kicked out of the house by Ginny, disapperating and probably going to Weasley and Ganger‘s (Or should I call her Weasley as well since she married him?) house to wait for his wife to cool down and tell her that he has no idea how that bra got there or who it belonged to. I always knew a Weasley’s temper could be used to my advantage someday. It seemed Merlin was watching over me.

I intend to strike tomorrow night, Valentine’s Day. How fitting that I end Harry’s suffering on such a romantic day.  
  
I apparated as close to the house as I could since it was warded, but I knew how to get past those and it only took me twenty minutes to get rid of them without alerting the owners of the house. I stood outside the house, beneath their bedroom window, and saw the light being switched off.  
She was getting ready to go to sleep.

Brilliant.

 

 

_I ripped out_

_His throat_

 

 

I slipped into the house, careful not a make a sound. I slowly open the wooden door that led me into their bedroom.  
  
It was a simple yet tasteful room, mostly dark wood, reds and whites with a few personal touches here and there, but I didn’t pay close attention to the room. I was more focused on the girl sleeping in the double bed. She looked so peaceful there, like she had nothing to worry about. How it made me want to vomit.  
  
I leaned forward, my hands going for her throat. I wrapped my long fingers around it and slowly started to squeeze. I decided to kill her the muggle way, since she isn’t worthy of having a quick and painless _Avada Kedavra_ for taking what was rightfully mine. She deserved all the pain and terror she was going to feel.

 

 

_And called you on the telephone_

_To take off_

_My disguise_

_Just in time to hear you cry when you..._

 

  
I sat on the couch patiently, waiting for my beloved. I just called him after trying a couple of times on how to work the muggle contraption and saw there was a note by it that told me Harry’s number in case of an emergency. When he sees her dead, he’ll be all mine, I thought with barely suppressed glee.  
  
I looked at the blood on the back of my hands and wrists with a sense of curiosity. Her nails had broken through my skin while she struggled – how interesting. The wounds were still bleeding slightly and the blood was making trails across my pale skin, half of it already dried. Before I could think more on it the front door opened and a very distressed Harry walked in.  
  
He looks as handsome as he always does, no matter what expression he has on his face. He glanced at me with some confusion.  
  
“Malfoy, what are you doing here?” And then he saw the blood on my hands and I watched as his eyes widen slightly. “What happened?” was his next question.  
  
I smiled a happy smile. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Harry. And nothing that wasn’t necessary, she just wouldn’t give up without a fight.” I rolled my eyes but kept on smiling.  
  
“Malfoy, what happened?” Harry asked again, this time his voice was demanding.  
  
“I don’t like you calling me Malfoy. I think you should start calling me Draco, since we are going to start a new life together,” I pointed out, frowning a little. “It’s just not right calling your husband by their last name.”  
  
“Husband? Malfoy, I’m married. Wait, where’s Ginny?” At this Harry looked around the room, becoming more worried.  
  
My smile came back and grew bigger. “No longer here. Isn’t it wonderful?”  
  
Harry glared at me, the one that I’m guessing he uses on his suspects when he interrogates them. “Where is she?”  
  
“She was in the bedroom,” I answered vaguely, since she is no longer with the living so there for she is no longer here. I heaved a sigh when Harry went straight there, leaving me by myself. I got off the couch and went into the bathroom that I happened to notice. I turned the tap on and washed the blood away, frowning at the sting. I could hear Harry’s heartbreaking shout which probably meant that he had found his dead ex-wife.  
  
I sighed once again and dried my now blood-free hands on the towel next to the sink. I exited the bathroom and went down the hall to the bedroom. I looked inside the room with intrigue. He was on the bed, holding her dead corpse in his arms, sobbing, tears making their way down his face. I didn’t think he’d be this sad to see her gone.

I felt anger rise inside of me at the sight. Even when she is dead she manages to take up all his attention. I wished that she was alive just so I could kill her again. But I took control of my emotions and put them aside. It no longer mattered. She was gone and now Harry and I can live the rest of our lives together. I kept that happy thought close to me.

 

 

  
_Oh, my love_

_Please don’t cry_

_I’ll wash my bloody hands and_

_We’ll start a new life_

 

  
I dumped my now empty mug in the sink and went to explore the house. They have a bathroom that was down the hall, two bedrooms, guessing one was the spare room and I avoided the other one for obvious reasons, a kitchen that opens into a lounge, turn the corner and you have the dining area and that makes up their small, but modest, home.  
  
Yawning, I walked back down the hall to the spare bedroom and decided to sleep here for the night, just to be close to my Harry. I took off my shoes and got under the covers, closed my eyes and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

 

 

 

_You mourn the death of your bloody valentine_

_The night he died_

_You mourn the death of your bloody valentine_

_One last time_

 

  
When I woke up the next morning it was to a light drizzle tapping softly on the window. I rubbed my eyes and frowned around the room, having no idea where I was. And then it hit me.  
  
Ginevra Weasley-Potter is dead.  
  
I started to laugh with happiness, hoping that this wasn’t some kind of beautiful dream. Quickly getting out of bed I went down the hall to the bedroom door. The door was still closed and there was no sound that could be heard coming from the room. Gently, I opened the door and poked my head inside.  
  
The first thing I saw was Harry sleeping. I smiled, thinking now he can rest peacefully without that girl hanging off of him every night. Entering further into the room, I tip-toed to the other side of the bed, where I found a seemingly sleeping Ginevra. I put my index and middle finger against her throat and help my breath, waiting to see if there was a pulse.

There was none.  
  
I heaved a big sigh of relief, smiling once more. She was really gone. All gone. Leaving Harry for me, and me alone. Oh happy days!  
  
I released a little giggle before exiting, going down the hall and into the lounge. There I sat and started to day dream of dreams with Harry and me together, dreams that now have a chance of becoming real. I sat there for a long time, lost in my own mind, a content smile of my face.

 

 

_There was_

_Police and_

_Flashing lights_

 

  
I might have dozed off or something because when I woke up it was to a sore head. I tired lifting one of my hands to press it against my forehead but found I couldn’t move it. This puzzled me more. Pushing my pain to the side for now, I tried to take in my surroundings.  
  
I was sitting in an uncomfortable chair in a poorly lit room, the only light coming from a single blub hanging down from the ceiling. There was a window in this room, but it was dark outside and the heavy rain that could be seen blocked out any view. The colour scheme of the room was plain, just white and no other furniture other than the chair I was sitting on could be seen. I tried again to move my hands but found them tied to the back of the chair, the ropes digging into my skin. I tried pulling them. Knotted tight. My legs were also tied but to the legs of the chair.  
  
I frowned, once I noted all these facts, and wondered how I got here. The last thing I remembered was daydreaming that now can turn into reality.

Before I could ponder more on how I made it here, I heard a door being opened, the sound coming in from behind me, the footsteps loud in the semi-quiet room, walking towards me. I was starting to think that this might be a dream but I discarded that thought when I saw who entered this boring room.

 

 

 

  
_Oh, my love_

Harry.  
  
This wasn’t a dream; Harry looked too perfect to have been a figment my imagination. His hair was as wild as ever, wearing his official Auror robes that were slightly wrinkled, dark circles forming under both his eyes telling me he hasn’t had a lot of sleep, and stubble was forming on his face. But even if he could have looked better he was still the most beautiful person I have ever seen.  
  
I smiled. He’s coming to rescue me, I just knew it. My smile grew wider when I saw him pull out his wand. He’s going to untie me and then we are going to run away together. I could barely contain all the joy that I was feeling.  
  
“Harry,” I breathed, the name of the man I love tasting so sweet on my tongue. “You came back for me.”  
  
But he shook his head at me, taking out a quill and parchment. With a flick of his wand the two items were suspended from the air, quill pose to write. I was confused. Did he mean that we mustn’t talk? Save our breath for the running we have to do to get out of here before my kidnappers know that I have escaped? I could do that. Anything Harry wants me to do; I’ll do it, for him. But why was a piece of parchment and quill here? To write a letter to the people who brought me here?  
  
So I kept my mouth shut, but I grew more and more perplexed when Harry didn’t release me from my bonds. Instead all he did was stand there, looking at me. I didn’t mind it, though shouldn’t he be trying to get me out of here before the people who captured me got here?  
  
I was going to ask just that when Harry cleared his throat and said, “Draco Lucius Malfoy, you are brought here for questioning for the murder of Ginevra Weasley-Potter.” His voice caught slightly at the name but he continued speaking nonetheless. “If you are found innocent, I, Harry Potter, head of the Auror Department, shall release you. If found guilty you shall be put on trial, and the Wizengamot will determine your punishment. Do you agree to these terms?”  
  
I swallowed and was about to ask what was happening and if this was some elaborate joke when Harry gave me a look that demanded an answer, so I nodded.  
  
After seeing my nod Harry carried on talking, the quill scratching quietly next to him. “We shall determine your state of innocence by using Veritaserum. Do you agree to take it?”  
  
I nodded again because really, what could I do except agree with Harry? I was bonded to a chair and he would probably pour the liquid down my throat whether I say yes or no, so it was best to just go along with it.  
  
Harry took out a vial of the truth potion. Grabbing the hair at the back of my head, he pulled sharply, forcibly tilting my head back.  
  
“Mouth open,” he commanded and I followed his order, opening my mouth as wide as it would go. He pulled the cork off the vial and poured two drops of the potion down my mouth. He then released his grip from my hair and took a few steps back, arms crossed over chest.

 

_I don't know much at all_

  
_I don't know wrong from right_

 

“What is your name?”  
  
I moved my tongue around my mouth. The potion didn’t have any taste but it did make my tongue feel funny, almost numb.  
  
“Draco Lucius Malfoy,” I answered dutifully, my voice almost monotone.  
  
“And did you kill Ginny?”  
  
Well that was a pretty obvious question so I answered it simply. “Yes.”  
  
Harry eyes seemed to grow harder, looking at me with something akin to disgust. But no, that can’t be right. Harry loves me. He might not know it yet but deep down he loves me. He’s just scared, that’s all.  
  
“Why?”  
  
Another obvious question. “She was keeping you away from me.”  
  
“And how was she doing that?”  
  
“By being your wife and just existing in general.” I’m starting to wonder what was the point of using the truth serum when I could have answered these questions without it.  
  
“And you do know that you just murdered someone?”  
  
I frowned at that question. “I wouldn’t call it murder, Harry, I’d call it... solving a problem.”  
  
He looked rather surprised at my answer. “You really believe you didn’t kill her.” It wasn’t a question but I answered anyways.  
  
“Well, I killed her but I didn’t murder her.”  
  
“What’s the difference?” He seemed actually confused.  
  
“Murder and killing are very much the same but there is a slight difference between them. Murder is ending someone’s life because you want to. Killing is when you end someone’s life because you have to.”  
  
“You had to kill Ginny?”  
  
“Yes,” I said. “She was keeping you away from me.”  
  
Harry shook his head like he couldn’t believe what I was saying. “You’re mental, Malfoy.”  
  
“Draco,” I corrected him.  
  
“What?” He seemed thrown by what I said.  
  
“Draco,” I repeated. “I want you to call me Draco.”  
  
He shook his head again before clearing his throat one last time. “Draco Lucius Malfoy, I hereby find you guilty of murdering Ginevra Weasley-Potter. You shall be put on trial in three days’ time.” The quill stopped writing in midair, a few seconds after Harry was done talking, ending in what seemed to be a full stop. With another wave of his wand the quill and parchment went fluttering safely back into Harry’s open pocket. One last wave at me with his wand and the ropes were loosened and untied. He gave me one nod before exiting the room, leaving me sitting there in the quiet, the silence only being broken by the heavy rain tapping on the window.

 

 

 

_Oh, my love_

_Please don’t cry_

_I’ll wash my bloody hands and_

_We’ll start a new life_

_I don’t know much at all_

_I don’t know wrong from right_

_All I know is that I love you tonight_

 

 

Two other Aurors come in after Harry left, grabbing me forcible by the arms and lifting me up from my seat, ignoring my questions of where they were taking me and where was Harry. I soon found out that they were going to put me in a prison cell deep within the Ministry until the day of my trial. A dark, dirty, unsanitary cell, one not fit to hold a Malfoy. But neither of the officers listened to my complaints nor spoke to me at all, just giving me the silence treatment.

 

 

 

_Tonight_

I didn’t know how many days pasted in the cell, time is hard to tell with barley any light, the only one coming from the weak light blub hanging from the ceiling in the corridor, hardly even reaching the inside of my cell, and also the occasional bright light the comes streaming in when someone opens the door. Other than that, there are no lights so there fore no time to go by. But I did know when three days had past for people come in to get me.

Harry was amongst them, for the lifted my hopes up a bit that he might put a stop to this and get me out of here. But no, he juts stood there, arms crossed, glaring at me, while two other men dragged me out. One of them I realised as Weasley, glaring at me with such hatred and disgust. I couldn’t care less what the Weasel thought of me, Harry’s opinion is the only thing that really matters to me. So why is he just standing there, watching as these two buffoons haul me to the Wizengamot? It made no sense.

“Harry?” I whispered as we walked past him, searching his face for answers. The only one I got was a shake of the head. I then realised that Harry wasn’t going to help me. Maybe he was still in denial? Maybe he couldn’t believe his luck that he was finally free from that wrenched woman and can now start a new life with me? Whatever reason, I knew Harry wasn’t going to rescue me, so I had to rescue the both of us.

I struggled against the hold that both Aurors had on me, screaming at them to let go. Out of surprise, they did. Using this to my advantage, I grabbed Harry’s Auror robes in a tight fist and looked into his green eyes. Oh so very green.

“Please Harry,” I begged. “Please. You know we are meant for each other. You know that. Deep down you do. Please Harry, come back to me.”

But before I could make Harry see reason the other two forcedly pulled me away from my love, Harry doing nothing to stop them.

I looked determinately ahead of me after that, resigning to my fate. Azkaban will only hold me in for a short time, this I knew of, and when I am finally free, I will return to my Harry and make him see that we are perfect for each other.

Someday, Harry will be mine.

 

 

 

_Headlines read_

  
_A lover died_

  
**_Harry Potter’s Lover Found Dead_ **  
  
_It was found that when Mister Potter arrived home four days ago he found his wife lying on his bed, seemingly having been killed by suffocation. It was also found that the method of the killing was done by the person’s hands, a very Muggle way of taking someone else’s life._  
  
 _The very next day Mister Potter brought ex-Death Eater, Draco Malfoy, into the Auror Department for questioning, under the use of Veritaserum. Here he confessed that he was, indeed, the one to murder Ginevra Potter-Weasley._  
  
 _He has been put on trial and has been sentenced to ten years in Azkaban. For one, the reporter is pleased to hear this. Draco Malfoy seemed destined to follow in his father’s footsteps at some point in his life; it was only just a matter of time._  
  
 _For those of you who haven’t been with the news lately, or can’t remember anything about the Malfoys let this report remind you._  
  
 _Lucius Malfoy was and always has been a fine supporter of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and has committed horrid crimes such as..._

 

_Singin'..._

 

The End


	2. Hallelujah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the song “Hallelujah”, that belongs to the wonderful singer Rufus Wainwright. I am doing this for my own fun and not for profit in any way, shape or form.
> 
> Author’s Note: And here’s the next and last chapter! Okay, a few things I’ve got to apologies for before you start reading:  
> 1) The lateness of this fic. I’m really sorry, and I won’t give you all the excuses I have, I’m just sorry for how long this took. But better late than never, right?  
> 2) The ending. It’s corny to the max, so sorry for that. And sad. Read and find out, you’ll understand.  
> 3) The inaccuracy of some things. Like, how to treat erotomania, I researched how to, honestly I did, but they were all very vague and used big terms that I would never understand unless I become a psychologist, which I’m not planning on to, so I just went for being vague as well. But this is a Drarry, not a ‘how to treat a mental disorder’, so all is forgiven, yeah?  
> Okay, now you can read.

_It goes like this:_

_The fourth, the fifth,_

_The minor fall and the major lift_

_The baffled king composing Hallelujah_

They didn’t send me to prison like they said they would, instead they sent me to a muggle mental institution called Clear Waters, since St Mungo’s refused to have me, no real big shocker there.

The Daily Prophet didn’t seem to want to change that fact since they said, and I quote, “It’ll give the people more reassurance that the person who murdered Harry Potter’s wife is locked up in jail and won’t be causing our hero any more distress. We also don’t want the public to sympathize with the traitor”. I don’t care what the public think of me, they can all die in a hole for all I care. I owe them nothing and so their opinion is the least of my worries.

Apparently the disorder that I am “suffering” from is something called erotomania. I don’t believe that my love for Harry was formed by what my mind has made up, which just proves that muggles are stupid, worthless people who can’t tell the difference between delusions and real magic any more than the differences between an apple and a banana. But they are stupid, worthless people who somewhat redeem themselves by having very interesting inventions.

The staff here are nice enough with their cheery smiles and kind eyes; the only thing that annoys me is the pitying looks that they sometimes throw at me and cross frowns when I’m being extremely difficult.

The worst thing about this place is the people. Some of them have real issues and it makes me reconsider my thought of me being as completely sane as I think I am. I sometimes get through a whole week believing that I’m not right in the head, but then a picture of my sweet Harry comes to the for front of my mind and I banish such thoughts.

I keep to myself most of the times, to keep away the thought that my love might only be a figment of my imagination. I’m usually in my very white room reading a muggle novel of some sort which one of the workers manages to get me. Surprisingly, they’re rather interesting, more so than wizard novels most of the time.

At night, when everything is still and quiet, and the only thing keeping me company is the moonlight that streams through the gap in my curtains; I’ll every so often look up at the cracked ceiling and daydream about my perfect life with Harry that one day will come true.

A small smile plays across my face, when I think of my Harry and such thoughts, as I drift off into a peaceful slumber, holding those dreams close to me, since those are the only things keeping me sane.

_Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you_

A knock echoed in my silent room, successfully bringing me back to the real world. I blinked up at the chipped ceiling before turning my head towards the door, where one of the nurses was standing, looking at me expectantly. I raised my eyebrow in response to her look.

“Your mom’s here to pick you up. Gather your things and come to the entrance,” was all she said, turning around and leaving the door wide open. I grinned at the news, gracefully getting up from the bed and moving towards the knapsack that holds what little of belongings I brought with me. Today is the day that I’m finally going to get out of this hell and back to Harry.

I stride down the hallway towards the entrance room, ignoring the other patients that pass me, the bag swinging from side to side from where it was situated on my left shoulder.

Mother gave me a big smile when she saw me, me returning the smile. She looked fragile, her blond hair had lost its shine, her skin was deathly pale and her light blue eyes had lost most of the warmth they once held. Yet, even though all of this, she still looked like the beautiful, independent woman I’d always seen her as.

“Draco,” she whispers, drawing me into a hug as if she hasn’t seen me in years instead of just the few days since her last visit; mental patients have a perk of the visitation.

“Mother,” I say back, tightening my arms slightly around her.

“Now Mrs Malfoy, here’s the contact details for Draco’s new therapist, the address is included therein, some medication he needs to take, the instructions are on the back, and that’s about it.” The nurse smiled at the two of us. “It was lovely having you here Draco, and I sincerely hope we don’t see you again.” She nodded in my direction then turned on her heels and walked down the hall, taking a right turn when she could.

“We better go Dragon,” says Mother, linking her arm with mine. My heart gave a light squeeze at hearing my nickname. I didn’t know how much I would miss my mother until I didn’t see her almost every day; it’s nice to have her reassuring touch once again.

_I know this room, I've walked this floor_

The Manor hadn’t changed one bit since the last time I was here, still elegant, cold, expensive, but still home, no matter what. I looked around the entrance room, noting the change of flowers in the vase by the door, no sculpture of something that could never be identified, a new painting of a girl, but other than that everything looked the same, and I appreciated that. It was nice to feel familiar somewhere, to know I wasn’t going to go crazy any longer. This is my childhood home, and through everything it remained that.

Mother took me to the parlour, calling a house elf to bring us some tea, and settled beside me on the couch. I listened to her talk about her days and everything I’ve been missing from the Wizardry World, and I was pleased to note that Harry hasn’t found anyone yet, still mourning the death of his wife even when it’s be a year since her death, which was perfectly fine with me, the less people I have to kill the more time I get to spend with Harry.

I sipped my tea, letting Mother’s words wash over me, letting the thought of finally being home sink in. Now to get Harry, then everything will be complete.

_There was a time_

_You let me know_

_What's real and going on below_

_But now you never show it to me, do you?_

I began to watch Harry again just after three days of my return home. Everyone knows I’ve returned back to society, and I grinned as the Prophet tried to reassure them that I was no longer a threat and how they explained the reason why I got out of “prison”. It was deeply amusing.

So, since I’m deemed dangerous, I have to have my wand monitored, luckily not snapped, and continuously frowned upon, not as if that was new before but now it’s more heavily so and it makes it that much more difficult to keep an eye on Harry, which just throws me into a persistent dark mood. Harry has been on his guard lately, looking behind him and double checking the wards around his flat. It’s as if he wants to keep someone out.

Harry still looks as breathe taking as he’s always has, everything much the same, with a few added winkles and grey hairs that comes with age. The only thing that confuses me is his eyes. They’re still a vibrant green, the colour some might compare to emeralds but to me it’s Slytherin, but they no longer hold the shine they once had, the openness, Harry’s eyes have always been the most expressive part of him. But now they look dim, hard and cold, which I so hate. I want to see him smile, corners of his eyes crinkling in laughter, content. I frowned at this, wondering what is wrong with him.

Then a thought occurred to me. He might be sad because I’m no longer there. And once that idea took root it began to grow and the more I thought about it the more I began to believe it, the more it made sense. He’s pleased that Ginevra is gone, he’s just not happy with me having to go as well. Of course, I couldn’t believe that it took me this long to realise that.

So, I watched, waiting for the one moment that I needed.

_Maybe I have been here before_

There’s a secret passage behind a portrait of my many great grandfather hanging by my father’s study. It’s one of many passages and escape routes within the Malfoy Manor, but it’s the most guarded one out of all of them, holding the darkest and most secretive artefacts within. No one has found out about this passage, and I intend to keep it that way, since it’s the key to me getting a chance to talk to Harry.

I’ve mapped out where he lives, tested the wards around them and finding them too strong for any spells I know to knock them down, that’s where the passage comes in.

I looked carefully through the objects, recalling Father’s voice as he listed their names and what powers they possessed, making sure I knew all of them off by heart so if I should ever need to use them for emergency sake I would use the right one. I hushed the voice that was questioning if this was really an emergency, breaking down Harry’s wards to get into his flat, but I reasoned that not talking to Harry couldn’t go on any longer than it had already.

My eyes caught a necklace hang on a nail almost eye level, remembering what Father said of this particular treasure.

 _“And this Draco, is called Ostium Ego Quaeritur, very valuable and extremely_ rare _,” he put as much empathises on the last word, making sure I was paying attention. He pointed with his cane towards a necklace, a medallion to be more specific, hanging on the wall. It was an old looking piece of jewellery; the pendent was in a shape of a circle and imprinted on it was an elaborate work that I recognised as Celtic knots, twisting and winding and intercepting each other, not knowing where one began and the other set of knots ended. The pendent hang from a thick metal chain and even though it was pretty it wasn’t exactly the most fashionable jewellery around._

_“What does it do, Father?” I asked, crooking my head to the side and staring at the artefact._

_“Powerful, Ostium Ego Quaeritur is, it allows entrance to nearly any building, getting past even some of the most powerful of wards.”_

_“Nearly, Father?”_

_“Yes, there are some wards that even the most powerful magic can’t get through, but we’ll talk about that another time.”_

_“Can it get past the Manor’s wards?”_

_“Of course not Draco, don’t be ridiculous.”_

I smiled as the memory began to fade, thinking this will be the perfect object in order for me to get into Harry’s flat. I carefully took it off the hook and put it in my pocket of my trousers, turning around and exiting the passage.

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_

It seems that Harry’s wards weren’t strong enough for Ostium Ego Quaeritur’s magic since I was able to open his front door with a simple _Alohomora_ , where I wasn’t able to before.

I walked in unannounced, knowing Harry wasn’t in yet, taking note of my surroundings. It was a simple flat, just bordering on boring, with its simple furniture and just the necessities to live comfortable. I sat on the couch in what seems to be the lounge area and waited.

_Love is not a victory march_

I was leaning back against the couch, day dreaming about how our conversation would go, ending with a kiss of course, and maybe something more, when Harry walked in, eyes widening with shock and something else that made me frown. I soon pushed my confusion to the side and smiled up at him.

“Harry-”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Harry interrupted me, sending me a harsh glare. I opened my mouth to reply but he carried on talk. “Wait, how do you know where I live? How did you get in?”

I blinked up at him. “To see you, of course.”

“LEAVE ME THE BLOODY HELL ALONE!”

Silence followed that outburst, Harry’s fast breathing and the ticking of a nearby clock the only thing breaking the silence 

“I can’t,” I finally answered, voice oddly soft.

Harry took off his glasses and messaged the bridge of his nose, all anger gone from him in one go, leaving him looking tired. I wanted to take him in my arms and tell him everything would be okay, but I knew at that moment the comfort would not be welcomed.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Harry finally asked, putting his glasses back on.

“Draco,” I corrected.

“Right, yeah, sure, whatever, can you just go already?”

“But I just got here,” I reasoned, wondering why Harry was asking me to leave already.

“Malfoy, haven’t you already caused me enough pain in my life time? Why can’t you just _leave me alone_?”

“Why would you want me to leave you alone?”

“Oh, I don’t know, because we hated each other since we first met? Because you’ve insulted my friends? Because you’re completely mental and _murdered my wife_?!”

I rolled my eyes. “There’s no need to shout.”

“Oh, I think there bloody well is! I just- Why? Why me of all people? Haven’t I suffered enough already?”

“Yes, you have,” I nodded, understanding that part. “That’s why I killed her, if I hadn’t you would have kept suffering.”

“You actually believe that-” Harry’s eyes widened again before he started to laugh that had a hysterical hint in it. “Bloody hell, you do. You actually believe that I was suffering with her.”

“Of course,” I sniffed.

Harry opened his mouth to say something when there was a whoosh by the fire place; Weasley’s face appearing through the flames, making him look even more hideous while the fire distraught his features slightly.

“Harry? You there?” called the weasel, face hovering above the blocks of wood.

“Yeah, Ron, I’m here,” answered Harry, turning his back to me and crouching in front of the red head.

“We’ve found him; he’s near the Giggly Gaggle,” with nothing else to say, Weasley’s face disappeared, leaving me grateful for him to be gone.

Harry sighed and stood up. He glanced at me and buried a hand in his hair, pulling at it slightly; causing himself and me to wince. “You have to go,” he said finally.

“Why?”

“Because you’re an unwelcomed guest, if I can even call you that, and I have work to do.”

“I’ll come with,” I smiled, that way I can protect him from any wayward spells.

“No,” said Harry, voice hard. “You’re going to wherever the hell you came from and leaving me alone.”

I scowled; not at all please with this command. Harry pulled out his wand, obviously to apparated to where he has to go, and I did the first thing that came to mind, not wanting to leave with what so little time I had with my Harry.

I grabbed his arm just as he apparated.

_And every breath we drew was Hallelujah_

I stumbled a bit when we landed, blinking at the darkness of the place, hearing Harry curse beside me. I took in my surroundings carefully, wand already in hand, prepared for a curse to be shot at me at any given moment. I might not be able to cast anything dangerous, considering my wand was being monitored, but I could at least cast a _Protego_ and some other spells. The stars twinkled down on us, a three quarter moon in the sky being our only light so far.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking, grabbing me like that? We could have both been splintered!” Harry hissed beside me, his breath ghosting the side of my face and making my breath hitch.

“We’re not,” I whispered back, my eyes adjusting slightly that I can now make out shapes. “Now, are we in any immediate danger or not? My legs are getting sore from crouching.”

“We’re fine,” answered Harry, digging his nails into my shoulder, which I would have liked since he was touching me but the pain slightly outweighed the pleasure, and pulling me up straighter.

“Harry?” came a very loud whisper, and I rolled my eyes when I recognised that it was Weasley.

“Here Ron,” said Harry, still whispering, and I saw a blob that could only be the weasel coming towards us.

“Who’s there with you?” the blob stopped in front of us.

“Malfoy.” Weasley made a hissing sound loudly, much like a cat would make, and I saw the dark blob move, either to pull out his wand or going to attack me like a muggle, which I wouldn’t put past the red head. “He somehow got into my flat and thought it would be fun to grab a hold of me while I was apparateing,” Harry continued.

“Malfoy, get the bloody fuck out here,” hissed Weasley, obviously couldn’t see too well in the dark either since he doesn’t seem willing to cast any spells, probably confused as to which is Harry and me. Some auror he is.

“Ron, not right now, you can punch him to a bloody mess later, we have Finny to catch, remember?”

Weasley growled, but didn’t make any other sound. I had my head crooked to the side all through Harry trying to calm the weasel down, frowning as I heard a faint rustling sound coming nearby.

I wouldn’t have noticed the dark grey light coming towards us if I wasn’t looking carefully as to where the noise was coming from.

“Harry!”

_Maybe there's a god above_

_And all I ever learned from love_

_Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you_

_And it's not a cry you can hear at night,_

_It's not somebody who's seen the light_

_It's cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

The spell hit me in the gut just as I pushed Harry out of the way; forgetting about me having a wand, but most probably the curse would be too strong for a _Protego_ , and landing on my back on the grassy floor, hearing Harry curse beside me as he also landed on the ground.

“Shit,” said Weasley, casting a series of spells in the direction where the curse came from.

I coughed, suddenly finding it hard to breath. The pain was so intense I felt tears spring to my eyes, but my Harry was safe, so that was what mattered most. I briefly wondered when I turned into a Hufflepuff.

“Hey, Malfoy, are you alright?” I saw something hovering above me that I took as Harry leaning over me. If he was talking then that meant he’s okay. I smiled slightly at that. Definitely a Hufflepuff now. I’m going to die a Hufflepuff. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself when this thought floated through, which just caused even more unbearable pain to myself.

“Hey, Malfoy, can you hear me?” Harry asked, lighting his wand quickly so he could see the situation better. I doubt seeing blood pouring from my side being a pretty sight, my hand pressed over the wound and can feel it seeping through and staining my hand, but at least now I can see his face somewhat properly, squinting up at it.

“Harry, I need to tell you something,” I whispered, my voice sounding weak and I was starting to feel light headed.

“What Malfoy?” Harry looked at my wound, glancing over the rest of my body for any other wounds. “Ron!” he shouted, causing me to wince.

“Harry, listen, this is very important.” Everything was starting to go fuzzy around the edges and sounds were becoming muffled and I knew I didn’t have much time left.

“What?”

I smiled. “I love you.”

It all stopped.

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_


End file.
